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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377839">The Glorious Reunion of the Fabulous Killjoys!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanteethforanimalbones/pseuds/humanteethforanimalbones'>humanteethforanimalbones</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ANGST but like it gets resolved near the end, Fun Ghoul has adopted some mongrels, Fun Ghoul is a dick, I'm starting this without a plan, Jet Star is a sweetheart, Jet Star is like a father to The Girl, Kobra Kid Has A Crisis, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Other, Party and Kobra are siblings, Past Party Poison/Fun Ghoul, Post-Canon, The Fab Four didn't die at SING, The girl is mute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:09:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanteethforanimalbones/pseuds/humanteethforanimalbones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fabulous Four was something of a myth. A glorious pantheon of violent martyrs that fought against the oppressive BL-ind.</p><p>Every Killjoy wanted to meet them, to watch them in action, to be them.</p><p>Not many were actually sure if the Fab Four were even still alive, let alone together. The occasional scavenger will swear to the Phoenix Witch that they totally saw the legendary Trans-Am that once carried the Killjoys, rock and roll blaring through the old, distorted speakers, only interrupted by the smooth voice of the elusive Dr. Death Defying, it's worn tires kicking up dust as it rode valiantly down the roads that twisted through the Zones. But rarely were they ever telling the truth.</p><p>Very little people actually claim to know what happened to the Fab Four, but everyone knows their names.</p><p>Even if most of their exploits were covered in legends, there was no doubt that they were real, at least at some point. And any Ritalin Rat that dwelled in the Zones wishes to whatever God they believed in that they would come back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Devastating Departure of the Fabulous Killjoys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First time posting, uhh just don't slaughter me? This is kind of a self-serving fic, and probably won't have regular updates lmao.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some days, Jet Star missed when he ran with the Fab Four.</p><p>He missed their patchwork family, eating one meal a day together, sitting in the back of the Trans-Am with rock and roll blasting through the radio, being chased through the desert by BL-ind's drones, who wouldn't ever stop until they saw all four of them ghosted against the desert sand..</p><p>Well, maybe there were some things that he didn't miss.</p><p>But he did miss the guys, he missed them a lot. Even if only two of them were actually related by blood, they all shared a tight bond. One that they believed would take them to the graves. If they ever died, they would all do so together, meeting the Phoenix Witch at the Pearly Gates hand-in-hand, ready to cement their title as God's Bastard Children.</p><p>But, those days were long behind him.</p><p>After Dr. Death Defying signed off for the last time, they lost their structure. Without someone spinning for them, the Zones became more dangerous, it became dull and boring. Without the organization of the DJ, BL-ind found it much easier to find and scatter the Killjoys, forcing them into hiding.</p><p>When they all went their separate ways, they all made a promise to reunite somehow, to stay in touch some way. Hijacking radio signals, sending couriers, finding a ritual meeting spot. Hell, even Ghoul's suggestion to use carrier pigeons seemed appealing, so long as it meant staying together. But, not even the legendary quick-wit of Fun Ghoul himself could keep the Fab Four together.</p><p>Jet Star remembered the day well, even if it was years ago now.</p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He and the Fab Four, as well as The Girl all stood around the Trans-Am, waiting for someone to say something. The diner they had been using as a base was cleared out, whatever they could pack into bags was taken. CD's, clothes, food, whatever they could carry.</p><p>"Fuck, I really thought that we'd go out in a blaze of glory."<br/>
Fun Ghoul finally spoke, his words coming out in a begrudged sigh.<br/>
"Like, gun shots and explosions and a really killer guitar solo. This feels more like an awkward funeral."<br/>
He commented, scowling a little. He had a hand planted on the back of his neck, scratching a little bit as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.</p><p>"Yeah, this sucks. It'd probably be a lot easier to just die."<br/>
Party Poison agreed, laughing bitterly. They had a hand on Ghoul's shoulder, their signature blue jacket hidden under a black cloak. They didn't want to look too obvious.</p><p>"Maybe if we stand around long enough, Korse'll catch up to us and just end it."<br/>
Kobra Kid said, crossing his arms. The aviator sunglasses he wore hide his squinting eyes.</p><p>"Jesus, Kobra, tell us how you really feel."<br/>
Jet Star was holding the Girl's hand. He would be taking the Trans-Am and going as far away as he could. After a short period of deliberation, and a passionate goodbye from Ghoul, it was decided that Jet and the Girl would need the iconic car the most.</p><p>"Listen, guys, I don't know if it's a good idea to keep in touch."<br/>
Party spoke, flipping the conversation on it's head. Everyone looked at them like they had just pissed on the Trans-Am.</p><p>"What the hell, why?"<br/>
Kobra asked, looking to his sibling. He looked the most offended. Poison was the only family he had ever known, cutting contact would be like losing his lifeline.</p><p>"It isn't personal, I just don't think it'd be smart to constantly keep in touch. You know the motherfuckers at BL-ind could track us, no problem. Without Dr. D, we're putting ourselves at serious risk."<br/>
Party explained, looking at their brother with a look that said 'Please-Don't-Start-A-Fire-Because-I-Will-Have-To-Put-It-Out.'</p><p>Ghoul groaned.<br/>
"Party's got a point. You know Korse, that bald bastard could track us all the way to Texas on spite and scent alone."</p><p>"I still don't like it. What if something happens to one of us and we need help?"<br/>
Kobra asked, before lowering his voice, glancing down at the Girl, then back at the others.<br/>
"What if something happens to her?"</p><p>Since they had taken responsibility of the Girl, the Fab Four had taken up a fiercely protective stance on her. They were like her big brothers. If, y'know, big brothers were armed with guns and explosives, and weren't afraid to dust people for threatening her.</p><p>"Do you really think I'd let something happen to her?"<br/>
Jet Star asked, glaring at Kobra. He had taken a particular liking to the Girl, which is why he was so quick to volunteer to take her with him when they all split up.</p><p>"What? No, no no no."<br/>
Kobra said, his eyes widening at Jet Star<br/>
"I'm just- I.. I'm just going to be worried about her, about all of you."<br/>
He admitted, crossing his arms.<br/>
"BL-ind is out for blood. If you really think that splitting up will make it harder for them to catch us, that's fine. But I don't want us to be completely broken apart."</p><p>"Aww, Kobra. You really do care about us!"<br/>
Ghoul explained. Even with the weight of the situation, he was determined to not take it seriously. He put his arms tightly around the lanky Killjoy.<br/>
"That's so sweet, I always knew that you really did have a soul, you big old teddy bear!"</p><p>"Get off of me, you fucking weirdo!"<br/>
Kobra scowled, wriggling his way out of Ghoul's grip.<br/>
"Do you need a band-aid or something for that bleeding heart of yours?"</p><p>That earned a laugh from the remaining Killjoys, as well as a smirk from Fun Ghoul. The laughter, however, soon died down. The serious, tense, and awkward silence returning to blanket the gang. All of this was just delaying the inevitable.</p><p>"I guess we should actually get going before Korse comes to blow us off the face of the earth, huh?"<br/>
Party suggested, breaking the silence.<br/>
"I don't think I could have really asked for a better crew to run with. Even though you're all assholes."<br/>
They continued, a smile coming across their face as tears threatened their eyes.<br/>
"I'm going to miss you guys. I love you."</p><p>"I'm going to miss you all too. I'll take good care of her, I promise."<br/>
Jet Star said, picking the Girl up. Fun Ghoul raised his eyebrows, narrowing his gaze at Jet Star, earning an eye roll.<br/>
"And the Trans-Am."<br/>
He added, before pulling Ghoul into a hug, the Girl putting his arms around the dark-haired Killjoy's neck. Ghoul twisted his head, kissing her on the cheek. A rare moment of genuine affection from the punishingly sarcastic man.</p><p>Poison took the Girl from Jet's arms, hugging her tightly. They knew that this goodbye would be difficult, as they kissed her cheek as well.<br/>
"Don't worry about us, we'll be okay."<br/>
They promised her, their voice almost a whisper.<br/>
"Just be good for Jet, don't get into too much trouble without us."<br/>
They joked with a smile.</p><p>At this point, Kobra was itching to get on his bike. But, not even he would be free from the pull of having to say goodbye to his little family. Like Fun Ghoul and Party Poison before him, he hugged the Girl tightly, kissing her forehead. He promised that he'd be back, that he'd visit her, and in-turn made her pinky-promise to behave for Jet Star.</p><p>The goodbye ended in complete silence. It was difficult to put their emotions into words, the pain of leaving manifesting in a tearful group hug, then they went their separate ways.</p><p>Kobra Kid left on his motorbike, helmet protecting him from the sand his bike was kicking up as he rode away from the diner. Fun Ghoul and Party Poison donned their masks, Poison putting their iconic yellow and blue mask away in their bag, and opting for a combination of a hood, dark goggles, and a bandana. Fun Ghoul put on their rubber monster mask and walked into the desert, walking side-by-side with Poison. Jet Star could've sword they were holding hands, but he was too far away to actually see. </p><p>"Ready, kid?"<br/>
Jet Star asked, settling into the driver's seat of the Trans-Am. The Girl was seated in the passenger's seat, looking out of the front window. She nodded, tears still fresh in her eyes. Jet Star tousled the Girl's hair, offering her a smile before he flipped down the mask of his helmet.<br/>
"Don't worry, we'll be fine."</p><p>With that, he turned on the car, the stereo system buzzing to life as the CD that he had put into the radio began playing. The wheels of the car screeched against the tar, before speeding out into the wasteland to the sound of a certain smooth-talking DJ.</p><p>"Look alive, sunshine.."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Convenience Stores Don't Make You Pay Rent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A peak into Jet Star and the Girl's life out in the Zones before everything kind of goes to shit. Kind of an exposition-y</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back when he was still actively being a criminal, Jet Star always cursed his lack of depth perception.</p><p>He didn't always have just one eye, he used to have two. However, a clap with a Drac involving an empty beer bottle and a particularly sharp rock saw to it that he wouldn't keep them.</p><p>Fun Ghoul would always tease him about it, asking if he could take off one of his hands, just to complete the pirate aesthetic. Everyone would laugh, then things would escalate, to the point where Party would have to wrestle a knife from Ghoul's hands, while Kobra covered the Girl's eyes and Jet fled to the roof of the Trans-Am. But, it was all in good fun. Ghoul would never actually try to take off Jet's hand, but he would, for denting the roof of their old car with his boots.</p><p>Ghoul would probably have a fit if he saw the state of the Trans-Am now.</p><p>Since they split up, Jet Star had to find somewhere safe to hide, and having the car out for anyone to see would be way too dangerous. The spider adorning the hood would be way too obvious, both him and the Girl would be sent to the Phoenix Witch before they could even put up a fight.</p><p>Taking refuge in an abandoned gas station turned out to be for the better. There was a garage, where Jet Star could retire the car, covering it with a tarp. The chariot that once carried the saviors of the Zones was now doing nothing but taking up space and collecting dust. His heart ached when he put the tarp over the car, it was like burying a friend. But, there were much more important things than the car now.</p><p>The station also had a small building connected to the garage that used to be a convenience store. Though, all that was left of it was empty shelves and broken freezers. But that didn't matter. It offered cover from Dracs, and would protect both him and the Girl from the sandstorms that would occasionally kick up out in the Zones.</p><p>This would be their home now.</p><p>------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Living with the Girl wasn't easy, nor was it difficult. She was just like any other kid, wanting food, liking to play outside with an old robot doll she had picked up at some point, asking to hold Jet Star's gun, having to have the gun negotiated out of her hands when she took it while Jet's back was turned.</p><p>She reminded her a little of Ghoul, in that sense. And Party, with her smart, and a little prideful attitude about everything. Thinking about that definitely hurt.</p><p>Whenever bed came around, and the Girl got settled into her sleeping bag, which was set up on what used to be a booth from a diner a few miles away, she would ask for stories. Not the usual stories from the Zones, about the DESTROYA or the Phoenix Witch. She asked for the impossible, she asked what the other Killjoys were up to now.</p><p>Jet Star could have lied, could have put on a bitter, grim expression and told her that they were dead, and that she really shouldn't be keeping her hopes up. Hope is what gets you killed in the Zones. But, he didn't. He never could lie to her like that, and it always pained him to see her upset. So, he lied in a different way.</p><p>According to his stories, Fun Ghoul and Party Poison founded their very own town, a charming little place full of grass and other impossibilities. They both helped everyone as much as they could, and had invented a force field that kept the Dracs and BL-ind spies out. The Kobra Kid would visit them sometimes, riding in on a fancy new motorbike, equipped with a fancy yellow-and-black finish (or whatever color the Girl found herself liking at that point. Changing the story was always fun). Kobra would bring in supplies to the town, mostly food, the most delicious food he could take from Battery City. No one ever ate Power Pup in the town except for the dogs.</p><p>That seemed enough to put her mind at ease. Jet Star would say goodnight and kiss her forehead before she fell asleep.</p><p>The stories wouldn't do the same to Jet, though.</p><p>It made him restless, and it made him think, more importantly. He very much doubted that Fun Ghoul could actually settle himself down enough to found a settlement, and Party Poison could never keep themself away from the action for too long, even if they fronted themselves as someone who could. What Kobra was doing now was beyond him, he could be anywhere. As far as he knew, he could be a skeleton , his bones being bleached as his hair once was.</p><p>On nights like that, Jet Star would slip out of the gas station, standing in the sand, looking up at the sky. The pollution from Battery City made it hard to see the stars, but occasionally, a few would break through. It was pitch black out on the edges of Zone 6, the lights from Battery City would never reach them out here. Without the sun to heat up the earth, the desert became chilly at night, which Jet could live with. The sounds of distant gunshots and motors revving would be enough to drive him back inside. Since they broke up, he had become something of a recluse, not really wanting to be seen, or noticed by anyone.</p><p>---------------------------------------------------</p><p>As the Girl grew up, Jet Star knew that he couldn't keep her around the gas station for long. Eventually, she'd have to get out and explore the Zones a little bit, just like Jet when he was her age.</p><p>In the desert, you learn to grow up very quick, and you get responsible fast. The Girl proved to be clear evidence of that. Once she was old enough, Jet Star taught her everything he could think of. How to do first-aid from whatever you had on you (a lot of fabric had been cut that day), how to hide out in the dunes (which quickly turned into 'how to get sand out of your eyes'), and once she was old enough, how to shoot a blaster.</p><p>Jet scraped his cash for months to afford a gun for her. He couldn't settle for anything other than the best. It would be her first gun, and it had to be special. So, he traveled for days to find the nearest vending machine. He waited for the Dracs to clear, then moved in. He unloaded his money into the machine and slammed the button depicting a gun, a pristine, white blaster falling into the catch below. For good measure, he also "borrowed" some spray paint from a younger gang of Killjoys when their back was turned.</p><p>The muscle he pulled hauling ass away from the young hoodlums was worth seeing the look on the Girl's face when he showed her the gun.</p><p>The Zones were the only place where seeing a little girl's face light up to the words "I got you your very own blaster" wasn't concerning.</p><p>The days after that were full of target practice, and decorating. She ended up spraying the barrel yellow, and the grip a lime green color. Which subsequently resulted in lime green hands, when they both forgot that paint needs to dry. Like the gun, the walls of the gas station became colorful as well. "Property of Jet Star," "Girl was Here," "Fuck Korse (which was immediately replaced with "screw" when Jet Star came back into the station)." Everything a Killjoy base might need.</p><p>With the gun, came another promise.</p><p>The amount of Dracs that Jet Star had seen come out to their part of the Zones was draining. When out hunting for food and trading for supplies, he had seen less and less of the wanted posters bearing his name and face. It was always a little awkward having to explain the posters to the Girl. No, the cross doesn't mean I'm dead, yes I am technically on death row, no they won't find us out here. This part of the desert was also relatively safe from vigilantes and vagrants. Of course, there were the occasional group of Killjoys, loudly proclaiming their views, firing their guns out into the night sky as they drove towards the Zones closer to Battery City. Sometimes, Jet Star felt like he should do something to start them. But, the best way to learn was through experience.</p><p>So, Jet Star had promised the Girl that she could go out and explore. She couldn't leave before or at noon, as it was way too hot, and she had to be back by sundown. This was met with an excited hug, and the Girl quickly packing a bag.</p><p>Jet Star had taken the Girl out with him before. He kept her incredibly close, and avoided people like the plague. She had to wear a mask at all times, and she couldn't, by any means, give away their identities. If someone was talking about the Fab Four, she had to ignore them. The Killjoy had a lot of faith in her, and trusted her greatly. If anyone could survive out in the desert, it would be her, without a doubt.</p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p>Her first day going out on her own, Jet Star helped her pack. He gave her a map, two cans of Power Pup, as well as their last full canteen of water. He also gave her his old motorcycle helmet, which was loose-fitting, but would be useful in case she ran into trouble, or a sandstorm. Whatever extra ammo he could find, he gave to her, as well as his old holster to hold her blaster with, which was comedically large on the youngster. Jet Star walked her to the edge of their gas station.</p><p>"You know the way home, right?"</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>"And you know what to do if you see any Dracs, right?"</p><p>She nodded</p><p>"And you remember curfew, right?"</p><p>She nodded</p><p>"What about other Killjoys, you remember what to do if they-"</p><p>She punched him on the arm, earning a laugh from Jet Star. She hugged him, and he hugged back, kissing her cheek. He felt an immense amount of pride as he watched her walk away, bravely strutting into the desert like it was no big deal. Jet felt like crying, but smiled nonetheless.</p><p>The afternoon was quiet without the Girl there. Jet didn't really know what to do with himself, other than to wait. Seeing the Girl walking off into the desert made him nostalgic, however, driving him to go into the desert and tug back the tarp that covered his old ride. It started as just looking at it, thinking about times long gone. But quickly turned into "Maybe I should change the gas, you never know. And that muffler looks like it could use a change. I think there's a spare tire around here somewhere.."</p><p>Before he knew it, the sun had set.</p><p>And the Girl wasn't back yet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uhoh spooky maybe the story will pick up in the next part</p><p>Someone left a really nice comment on the chapter I posted last night and I went "bidvbasidbiafbufv" and did this instead of school.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jet Star's Call to Action</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wasn't going to update today, but i got excited. ee hee<br/>maybe don't get cozy with daily updates, i'll figure out a schedule at some point.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pure panic coursed through Jet’s veins as he realised this. Fuck, how long had the sun been down for. He scoured throughout the garage, looking for the Girl, calling for her, before resigning to picking up his gun, and walking outside.</p><p>The chilly air nipped at Jet’s skin, only accentuated by the grease covering his hands, but that didn’t matter. He might as well have not at all felt it. He walked down the road either way, calling for her, gun drawn. He could barely see, only the light of the ever so sparse stars guiding his eye.</p><p>“Where are you?!”</p><p>He called, the panic in his tone making him cringe internally, only accentuating when he was met with silence, only the wind sweeping through the desert replying to him.</p><p>“Kid! Are you lost?!”</p><p>Jet Star called out as he walked. The desert sand shifted under his boots as he turned off from the road and around the dunes. She was probably scared, and cold. They didn’t have any working flashlights, so she could be lost. The thought drove a knot through his stomach. Maybe she lost track of time? Thought that Jet would be mad at her for coming home late? That was a worse thought, in a way. He could never bring himself to be really angry at the Girl.</p><p>This would be so much easier if he had the others. Poison would split them up, they’d keep a cool head, internalizing his panic for the sake of the group’s stability. Fun Ghoul would spare whatever flares he had, each of them becoming beacons to help lead the Girl home. Kobra would patrol around on his motorbike, watching for Dracs.</p><p>Fuck, he missed them.</p><p>His foot caught on something a mile out from the gas station. He was tired now, but still very much awake. He looked down to see what he kicked, picking it up.</p><p>His helmet.</p><p>Oh fuck.</p><p>He dropped to his knees in the sand, the colorful gun he and the Girl had created together resting beside his left knee. Around him, the sand was shifted, kicked up in a struggle. He didn’t see blood, at least not in this light.</p><p>Oh fuck.</p><p>----------------------------------</p><p>Once Jet was back in the gas station, he threw the helmet to the ground, cursing up to the sky. Anything could have happened to her. Other killjoys groups could have identified her? No, they would’ve taken the helmet. Dracs, maybe. His heart and stomach simultaneously dropped. Memories of his time running against the Dracs flooded his mind. Korse, that bald fuck, shouting to his masked underlings. Ordering more fire, ordering to speed up, ordering to “Kill those fucking kids and get the Girl!” Maybe that wasn’t the case, maybe she was just taken to a subterranean world full of sandworms? Those were real, right?</p><p>It’d be better than Dracs.</p><p>Everything would be so much easier if he had his crew. Fun Ghoul would already be fuming, bursting at the seams with all of that energetic aggression. Kobra would be joining him, he was an even-tempered Killjoy, but this would be the kind of thing that would set him right off. Party Poison would be off with Dr. Death and Cherri Cola, sending out signals, hijacking BL-ind radios, looking for the Girl through the radio waves.</p><p>Maybe things would be easier if he had his crew.</p><p>This was grounds for a reunion, right? The Girl was the destined savior of the Zones, she was supposed to awaken DESTROYA and kill BL-ind or some shit, right? That’s something the Fab Four would have to reunite for. Aside from that, they all loved the Girl, to Jet’s knowledge. The bond they all shared through her was strong. If Jet could somehow tell the others that the Girl was in trouble, they’d have to listen. They’d have to help.</p><p>The only problem was that they'd lost contact. They split. As far as Jet knew, they were all long gone. Shit, as far as they knew, he could be long gone. No one had tried to contact him, he didn't try to contact anyone. For all intents and purposes, Jet Star was dusted out along with the rest of the Fab Four. He had to abandon the name, the title of "Killjoy," and his legacy back at the diner. At this point, he didn't even know if he could pick it back up. Would anyone believe him if he claimed to be that?</p><p>But he couldn't focus on crises of identity right now. The Girl was in danger, he knew it, and he was going to find her.</p><p>Besides, how hard could it be to drudge up some contacts?</p><p>----------------------------------------------------</p><p>Starting up the Trans-Am was harder than Jet Star thought.</p><p>Not literally, he had spent most of the day working on the old car. It was kind of like reconvening with a friend. If anyone could ever bear the name Killjoy, it would be the Trans-Am. Iconic, it's body decorated with bullet holes and graffiti, the hood bearing the spider insignia, one Jet Star once proudly wore on the back of his jacket, but had since retired. The engine.. the engine could probably sound better. In the old days, it'd purr like a kitten, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting Drac. Now, however, it was purring more like a feral, angry cat, ready to rip the eyeballs out of an unsuspecting child.</p><p>Jet sat behind the wheel in the driver's seat, his helmet seated on the passenger's. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, looking out at the opened garage door. It was still dark, and he couldn't quite see. He'd need to turn the car on to do that. Whatever difficulty he was having with the car was mental. Starting up the Trans-Am used to be no big deal. Ghoul and Party would sit in the backseat whenever he drove, the Girl seated between them. They'd talk eagerly amongst themselves, toeing at the missile launcher on the floor. Kobra would either be next to him, fidgeting with the radio or looking out of the window, or he would be on his motorbike, flashing Jet a thumbs-up, just to let him know they were ready to roll.</p><p>Now, he was alone.</p><p>With a resigned, nostalgic sigh, he stuck his keys into the ignition, turning it. After a few tries, and a few encouraging "Come on, old girl"s," the engine roared to life. The radio crackling to life.</p><p>"Bad ...ews ...om the Zon..s, tumb..eeds"</p><p>The voice of Dr. Death Defying was distorted and weak, fading in and out. The old CD was probably scratched or something. It broke Jet's heart to hear his late friend and mentor's voice so disgraced. Pressing a button on the radio, the disc rolled out, Jet resting it on the console.</p><p>He couldn't drive without anything to listen to, however. If he had to listen to his own head while he drove, he'd drive himself off the road. Being left alone with his thoughts didn't fit his current plan. Maybe they still had radio stations up. </p><p>Still seated in the garage, Jet fiddled with a knob on the radio, the static and fuzz only being interrupted by the occasional BL-ind ad.</p><p>"THE AFTERMATH IS SECONDARY.... TRUST S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.... BATTERY CITY IS..."</p><p>He only stopped when he heard a bassline. It was smooth, the kind he and the others would listen to on more lowkey days. Jet was fine with that. He eased his foot down against the gas pedal, the car slowly rolling out of the garage, and onto the road.</p><p>Jet Star found his hands shaking as he drove. Usually, he was faster. Ripping up the road, rubber screeching against asphalt. Maybe going slowly just didn't fit his aesthetic? He could just be nervous, driving for the first time after a couple years. It could just not feel natural for him anymore, but he could come around. The song on the radio faded away, the music cut with a record scratch.</p><p>"Hey, Lo, watch the vinyl's! That's how they get scr- OH! Oh, we're on."</p><p>The station had a DJ? It didn't sound like one of the brainwashed BL-ind ones. Jet furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at the radio as he drove along.</p><p>"Sh- Welcome to 85.5, the interstellar paradise of the Zones. As you know, I'll be your captain, DJ Disarray."</p><p>There was something familiar about that voice, and it didn't quite fit a DJ's aesthetic. The Doctor spoke smoothly and confidently, a calming rumble in his voice. This voice was less deep than that one, but still self-assured.</p><p>"Be wary out there in the Zones, Killjoys. A moment of silence for Thrill Killer and Spider Splinter, who were tragically ghosted just outside of Zone 5 by a group of Dracs."</p><p>That didn't sound good. Dracs in Zone 5, got it. There was something about the voice, this DJ Disarray, that he really couldn't shake. He hadn't been listening to radio too frequently, so maybe he'd heard it around a trading post or something?</p><p>"Always stay aware in the Zones, astronauts. The Dracs'll get you quick, if you don't stick 'em quick."</p><p>Familiar. Something. He knew this guy.</p><p>"Keep your heads up, Killjoys. Remember, the Kids from Yesterday are looking out for you. Here's a track that'd get you ghosted in Battery City, coming straight from the space station."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh he knew this person.</p><p>Now, he had to find them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Jet Star's Return to Action</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jet Star meets some new people, stuff gets a little funky!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i could have thrown v*l v*locity's gang into this, but i really really hate him so much. like his crew is great, i love the twins but i hear v*l v*locity and i wanna throw up in my mouth like gross.</p><p>i'm riding this hate bandwagon straight to hell.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The radio was blasting loud, as Jet Star punched up at the roof of the car. He was smiling, ecstatic. His knuckles were white as he drove through the desert, dawn daring to break over the horizon.</p><p>They were out there, that could mean the others were too. The fact that they hadn’t stopped fighting really wasn’t surprising to Jet. It was always them who would bring the team back from the brink when they considered just dropping the fight. There was only one problem with locating them, in that he had no idea where the hell they were.</p><p>Obviously, a radio tower. But, which one? And in what Zone? It would be a lot easier to collimate wherever the hell they were if he were able to just ask what Zone they were at. But that would be both dangerous and impossible. There’s a reason why they used codenames and strange language, so they’d be hard to track. Just giving away a location would be too much of a risk.</p><p>So, that meant asking around. </p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He’d start with groups of Killjoys. Small, dangerous crews of rowdy young adults, eager to shed blood and be free. DJ Disarray was talking about Killjoys on the radio, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe that they had assumed the mantle of Dr. Death, acting as a de facto leader of the Killjoys, providing them structure and direction.</p><p>It wasn’t often that Jet Star would ever talk to these groups, it was too much of a risk. The occasional scavver swearing that he saw one of the Fab Four, spreading rumors? Whatever, he could just be trying to push trash he had pulled out of ruined buildings. But little Killjoys spreading tales of Jet? That had a little bit of truth to it. People would take it to heart, and spread it like wildfire. The citizens of the Zones clung to hope like their lives depended on it, and the hope that the legendary Fab Four were still out there were as hopeful as they could get. It’d spread from Killjoys, to Dracs, to S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W, and suddenly they were once again hunting for public enemies one through four.</p><p>But now he would have to take the chance.</p><p>---------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Jet Star slowed the Trans-Am to a crawl, heading behind a dune on the pressed-down sand that formed a makeshift road. Maybe it’d be safe there.</p><p>Not far from where he parked was a gang of shouting Killjoys, up and ready for the day, music blasting through a radio. Jet was far enough away so that they probably couldn’t hear or see the car. Or, at least hopefully. He dug around the backseat, pulling out a dark hood. It was stained, and parts of it were eaten away by moths, and smelled strange. But, at this point, what didn’t?</p><p>He threw the hood over his shoulders, settling his gun in a holster on his thigh, and headed towards the small encampment of teenagers. There were three of them, all wearing the bizarre style of the Killjoys, complete with old jackets and face masks, as well as crazy colored hair. They all spoke loudly, nodding their heads to the music on the radio as they ate cans of Power Pup. It reminded Jet of himself when he was younger. Stars in his eyes and an angry fire burning deep in his chest. It’d be heartwarming, if he couldn’t hear what they were saying.</p><p>--------------------------------------------------</p><p>“Did you see the way I took out that Drac yesterday? It was insane, I swear one of his eyes went like ten feet ahead of him!”</p><p>“Ah, bullshit, Tarot. You could barely get your head out of the sand, should call you ostrich.”</p><p>The one, apparently called Tarot, who sported lavender-colored hair, tossed his half-empty can of Power Pup at the source of the insult.</p><p>“Hey, fuck you, Viper. Like you could do be-”</p><p>“Guys, shut up, someone’s here.”</p><p>The sound of guns being drawn and a radio being turned down made Jet lower his hand to the grip of his blaster, not pulling it out, but keeping it there, just for reassurance.</p><p>“I’m not looking for trouble”</p><p>He reassured, looking over the small group.</p><p>“We have a kill-on-sight policy for BL-ind, you know.”<br/>One of them said, a lion’s mask blocking their face, muffling their voice a little.</p><p>“I know, I’m not BL-ind, I promise.”<br/>Jet Star said, holding up his hands.</p><p>“Prove it, asshole.”<br/>Said Tarot, holding his gun up, pointed at Jet’s head. His two hands gripping the gun tightly.<br/>“Take off the hood.”</p><p>Jet did so slowly, not wanting to make a sudden move the trigger-happy Killjoys would perceive as a threat. Without his hood, his identity was apparent. The eyepatch and wild, curly hair gave him away.</p><p>“I just have some questions about yo-”</p><p>“Holy fucking shit!”<br/>The one named Viper shouted. Her hair was a bright green.</p><p>“Dude, do you think it’s him?”<br/>Tarot asked, lowering his gun and looking at Viper.</p><p>“Will you two shut up?”<br/>The one with the lion mask asked, not lowering his gun like the others had.<br/>“What’s your name?”</p><p>“I used to..”<br/>Nope, not anymore.<br/>“They call me Jet Star.”</p><p>“Holy ass, it’s him! One of the Fab Four dudes!”<br/>Tarot called out, flipping up his mask. It was shaped like a bird’s beak.</p><p>“Tarot-”</p><p>“You think he’s got a robot eye, like the stories?”</p><p>“Viper-”</p><p>“Really? I heard it’s just a-”</p><p>“Shut up!”<br/>The one in the lion mask called, still holding up his gun to Jet Star.<br/>“Prove it. There are a thousand assholes out here claiming to be you guys.”<br/>His finger drifted to the trigger of his gun.<br/>“And I’m not easily convinced.”</p><p>Jet Star kept his hands up, his head rushing for answers. He had no proof of his identity, it’s not like he had a KIlljoy ID Card. But, he did have-</p><p>“The car”<br/>Jet Star said, snapping his fingers as his hand lowered to his pockets. He pulled out his key, the faded blue Mouse Kat head key chain dangling in his hand.<br/>“The car, m- our- the Trans-Am, I drove it here.”<br/>So much for keeping himself scarce.</p><p>“Take us there.”<br/>The one in the lion mask demanded, keeping his gun to Jet.</p><p>---------------------------------------------------<br/>He marched him over to the dunes where the car was hidden. It had been a while since he’d been in this scenario. Though, the last time he was interrupted by a guerilla attack, brilliantly coordinated by Cherri Cola and Kobra Kid.</p><p>Once they got there, the three younger Killjoys’ jaws dropped. The one in the lion mask lifted it, letting himself get a full view of the car.</p><p>“Holy shit, you’re actually Jet Star.”</p><p>Jet only replied with a proud smile.<br/>“The one and only”<br/>That’s something Fun Ghoul might say.</p><p>“Animal Cannibal.”<br/>He stuck the lion mask under his arm.<br/>“Sorry for wanting to shoot you, I have to be suspicious. These two- Tarot Talent and Viper Sniper- aren’t very smart.”<br/>He apologized, earning a sharp punch in the arm by Tarot.</p><p>“No hard feelings.”<br/>Jet said, shaking his head.<br/>“I’d be suspicious if you weren’t.”</p><p>“Did you really outrun an exterminator back in Zone One?”<br/>Tarot asked, interrupting their conversation</p><p>“What is Fun Ghoul like? Did he really blow up a BL-ind radio station using soundwaves?”<br/>Viper followed up, her hands were on the hood of the car, making sure it was actually real.</p><p>“No, and no. Ghoul was an asshole, but a very good friend.”<br/>Jet remembered fondly, laughing a little at the stories.</p><p>“What were you doing out here? Everyone said that you got captured by BL-ind.”<br/>Animal asked, furrowing his eyebrows.<br/>“Said they executed you right in the middle of the City.”</p><p>“I’m looking for someone. Two people, actually.”<br/>Jet said, leaning against the car. He wouldn’t get captured by BL-ind.<br/>“And, for the record, it’d be Ghoul that they catch. Not me.”</p><p>“Who are you looking for?”<br/>Tarot asked, folding his arms and standing next to Animal, wanting to look more mature and serious for the old-timer.</p><p>“I can’t tell you.”<br/>Jet Star admitted. He needed allies, but didn’t want to send random kids into the fray, and he didn’t want to send them on goose-chases to find someone he wasn’t 100% sure he could find.<br/>“That’s why I wanted to ask about your radio. Do you know who DJ Disarray is?”<br/>He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.</p><p>Animal shook his head.<br/>“Not personally. We all know of him, we all listen to him. But, none of us have ever met him.”</p><p>“Them.”<br/>Jet corrected<br/>“And, what do you mean? If they head a radio station, shouldn’t they have contacts?”</p><p>“Well, there’s one, but they’re really hard to catch.”<br/>Viper commented<br/>“Fastest Killjoy this side of the Zones. They’re called Lola.”</p><p>Lola? Weird name for a Killjoy, but whatever.</p><p>“Yeah, Lola. I once saw them outrun a whole group of Dracs, and an exterminator. Even killed two of them before getting away.”<br/>Tarot declared, earning a swift whack on the back of the head from Viper<br/>“What? I’m not lying!”</p><p>Animal rolled his eyes.<br/>“You can’t catch them, probably, but they’re seen a lot around Zone Five. They wear a big, pink jacket. Hard to miss.”<br/>He said, nodding.</p><p>“I’d love to stick around, but I have to keep moving.”<br/>Jet Star said, slapping the hood of the Trans-Am.<br/>“I don’t want Dracs on my tail too fast. Try not to tell people you saw me. Or that I’m alive.”<br/>He said, opening the car door.<br/>“Matter of fact, tell people I’m dead.”</p><p>The three Killjoys frowned, but understood.</p><p>“Maybe we’ll meet again.”<br/>Jet Star said, starting the car, before sticking his head out of the window.<br/>“Zone Five, right?”<br/>He asked, Animal nodding, before looking past the car. He pulled his mask back down over his head.</p><p>“Dracs!”<br/>-----------------------------------------</p><p>He called, pulling out his gun. The others followed suit. Jet Star started to kill the engine as the sound of a car and a motorcycle entered his ears.</p><p>“Don’t, you have to run!”<br/>Tarot said, holding up his gun, the sights trained on the sleek black car that was fast approaching.</p><p>“But, I co-”</p><p>“Shut up and go!”<br/>Animal barked as the Dracs crawled closer. There were three of them. Two Dracs driving the car, and an exterminator seated on a motorcycle. Jet Star needed no further prodding as he shifted the car’s gears, peeling away from the dune.</p><p>“Eat shit, you blind motherfuckers!”<br/>Viper called, firing a shot at the windshield of the Drac’s car. The shot landed on the console of the car, causing them to stop. </p><p>The wheels of the Trans-Am screeched against the pavement as Jet Star came back onto the road. He stepped on the gas hard, and sped off.</p><p>Though the car was stopped, and a firefight was breaking out, the motorcycle gave chase to Jet. Shit. The best he could do was outrun him. The engine of the Trans-Am roared, the radio cheering out a blaring rock and roll ballad as Jet drove, swerving around a corner, the exterminator following.</p><p>Jet should have felt fear, crippling fear. The kind of fear that made you stop in your tracks.</p><p>But, he didn’t.</p><p>He felt alive. So, so very alive. His fist hit the roof of the Trans-Am as he shouted out into the desert. His blood pumped fast and hot in his veins as the motorcycle continued to give chase. Jet Star hadn’t felt this in years. He was awake, and alert.</p><p>“Come and get me, you bald fuck!”<br/>Jet called. This exterminator wasn’t Korse. No, he would be able to tell if it was Korse from a mile away. This exterminator was lanky, his head and face covered by a white helmet, the suit he wore bore the same BL-ind logo that adorned the side of his motorcycle helmet. Korse was shorter, and more substantial. And he wouldn’t be caught dead on a motorcycle.</p><p>As it became apparent that the Trans-Am was more than likely not about to give in to some motorcycle, the exterminator fell back, staring at the car as the motorcycle slowed to a stop. Jet watched him through the rear-view, eloquently throwing up a middle-finger at him.</p><p>“Send this back to Korse, you motherfucker!”<br/>Jet howled, his adrenaline making him a little more confident, and a lot more vulgar. The exterminator stood in the middle of the road, his expression undecipherable behind the mask. He got back on his motorcycle as the Trans-Am drove out of view, driving back to the gunfight.</p><p>----------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Jet Star’s fist pounded on the roof of the Trans-Am.</p><p>“I ain’t no goddamn sonofabitch! You better think about it, baby!”<br/>He sang along to the radio. He laughed, out of breath. As the adrenaline drained from his body, his hands shook, and he eased up on the wheel and the gas. Suddenly, the song cut with an abrupt record scratch.</p><p>“I’m afraid I have to interrupt your program with a traffic update.”<br/>DJ Disarray’s voice cut spoke over the sound of the Trans-Am’s engine, Jet Star slowing down as he listened.</p><p>“Reports from the edge of Zone Six are saying that they’ve seen an Old-Timer cruising along the highway.”</p><p>Shit, already?</p><p>“We up here among the stars love a good old car chase more than anyone, but we advise very much against hunting the Old-Timer to any of you little aliens.”</p><p>Oh, right. The adrenaline blocked up his brain, preventing Jet Star from doing any kind of critical thinking. Now that he was coming down, he was starting to realize that mistake. He should have just dusted those BL-ind guys and been done with it.</p><p>“We ask that you leave it to the professionals. We’d hate to see you getting dusted by a senior.”</p><p>Jet Star was in his mid-twenties at best. Which was pretty old for the desert, between the Dracs and dehydration, it was a miracle that Doctor D survived as long as he had.</p><p>“And, to the Old-Timer, we’ve got our telescopes looking down on you. This is DJ Disarray, telling you to keep those blasters hot. Back to the tunes.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i don't actually know if daily updates are going to remain a thing. yes, i have started the next chapter, yes i plan to release it tomorrow.</p><p>also like thank you for reading this?? i deadass just started this because i have danger days brain rot and went like "hmm but what if no die???"</p><p>and like ya'll are so nice i ajldnoaduhvjn</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A New Contact is Really an Old Friend.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jet Star makes a friend, and finds another.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry for not updating for two days, i decided to take a bit of a break. again, daily updates aren't going to be a thing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What happened the rest of the day was an anxiety-ridden blur.</p><p>From morning to midday, following the chase and the shootout, Jet Star prowled around the Zones in the car. He was kicking himself for being stupid and reckless. Now people had to know that at least one of them was back. And, on top of that, now BL-ind knew that he was back. Fuck, why was he such an idiot?</p><p>If they were all together, everyone else would be berating Jet for his recklessness. Fuck, why was he such an idiot? He just had to recapture that glory. He just had to shout, and give chase, and give the finger while name-dropping an exterminator.</p><p>He pounded his forehead against the steering wheel as he rolled past a sign, welcoming him to Zone Five.</p><p>Jet was barely within the Zone for five minutes, before someone came up running alongside the car, dressed in a bright pink jacket. He slowed the car to a stop, letting them catch up.</p><p>“Can I help you?”<br/>He asked. The person gave no answer. Matter of fact, they were completely silent. He couldn’t even hear any breathing underneath the strange, porcelain-looking mask that covered their face. Then, it clicked.</p><p>“Oh, are-are you Lola?”<br/>Jet asked, struggling with their name for a moment. He was met with a nod.</p><p>“Okay.. Do you know who DJ Disarray is? Or where I can find them?”<br/>He asked. This was met with another nod. This one more said “follow me” than “yes.” With that, they were off, racing down the road.</p><p>The kid was right, they were pretty fast.</p><p>Jet followed in the car. He could maintain a pretty slow pace, no need to exhaust the engine anymore than he did. This continued for a little more than an hour. He had to give it to Lola, they knew how to not leave a trail. They went up and down dunes, walked in circles in some places, anything to not leave a trail. Jet would be impressed, if he wasn’t so impatient.</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Eventually, they came to a stop at a broken-down, cement radio tower. Jet Star pulled the Trans-Am up in front of the building, moving to get out. He was stopped by Lola, who had put their hand on the door, putting their other hand up, signifying for him to stop. They went into the building, shutting a heavy, metal door behind them.</p><p>They were in there for a couple minutes, plenty of time for Jet to get thinking. He could be wrong about the DJ. He could be getting lured into a BL-ind trap right now. No way, no way that was true. Jet had only just now made his presence known. They couldn’t have set up an elaborate trap that same afternoon, no way. His fingers rapped against the steering wheel as he waited for Lola. It wasn’t too late to just pull away and leave.</p><p>But, he couldn’t. Even if the DJ wasn’t the person he was looking for, he could use as much help as he could. And a radio station could be all the help he needed.</p><p>After a while, Lola stuck their head out of the door, nodding at Jet and motioning for him to enter. He killed the Trans-Am’s engine, the car letting out a sigh of relief as the engine began to cool. Jet opened the door, double-checking that he still had his gun and walked towards the door. His heart was in his throat as he walked into the station.</p><p>The hallway was cool, and dark. The sides of the hall were lined with lights and wires, all leading into a room at the end of the hallway. Lola led Jet to the doorway, leaning against the frame casually, nodding at Jet, giving him the go ahead.</p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Jet took in a deep breath, walking into the room. It was an office, one side of the room was lined with switchboards and blinking lights. Up against another wall was a pair of sleeping bags, and metal trunks, adorned with padlocks, keeping anyone who wasn’t supposed to be digging around them out. On top of one of the trunks was a familiar looking mascot head. The other side of the room was a large window. A desk sitting just below it. A turntable and a microphone sat upon it, cases upon cases of records were stuffed wherever there was space. Sitting at the desk was a person.</p><p>The person turned in his chair as he heard Jet walking in, their eyes widening.</p><p>“Jet?”</p><p>They asked. Their eyes were watering, almost synonymous with Jet’s. He could hardly recognize them without the red hair and blue jacket.</p><p>“Party?”</p><p>He asked, smiling in disbelief. His friend practically jumped from the chair, throwing their arms around him, Jet almost immediately reciprocating.</p><p>“Oh my God, I can’t believe it!”<br/>They said, smiling and laughing triumphantly through their tears.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you’re alive.”<br/>Jet said, swallowing the lump in his throat as he hugged Party tightly. It was so relieving to have them around. He missed everyone in the Fab Four so much, seeing their leader alive and well was relieving.</p><p>After a few minutes of hugging, and crying, and comments about hair, Party broke the hug, looking around.<br/>“Well, where is she?”</p><p>Oh shit. Jet was so focused on finding them, he hadn’t even considered how he would break the news to them.</p><p>“Jet, what happened?”<br/>Party asked, some panic in their tone. That’s what it took for Jet to break. It was like someone threw a brick at a window as Jet collapsed to the ground, sliding down against the cement wall.</p><p>“What happened to her?”<br/>Party asked, taking a knee beside his comrade.</p><p>“I.. Gone, gone.”<br/>Jet said, shaking his head.<br/>“I- It happened a day ago. I-I thought she could handle going out on her own!”</p><p>“Jet-”</p><p>“It was only a few hours, from midday to dusk. That’s it, that’s all. She didn’t come home. I-I tried looking for her, and- it’s-”</p><p>“Jet, calm down.”<br/>Party said, putting a hand on his shoulder. There was a raging storm of panic and anger behind their calm demeanor.</p><p>“She could be with the Dracs by now, she’s- Oh, God, and Korse? I don’t-”<br/>Jet panicked incoherently. He hadn’t truly panicked before now. Maybe it was all of the emotions he felt, or maybe because someone outside of his own brain told him to calm down.</p><p>“Jet, get it together!”<br/>Party snapped suddenly, causing Jet to jump.<br/>"Come on, keep it together. Just tell me what happened."</p><p>"I- She was out on her own for a little while. I thought she could manage herself in the desert. But.. she didn't come home. I tried to look for her, but all I found was her gun, and-and the helmet I let her borrow."<br/>Jet said, his tone ridden with guilt. Goddamn, he felt like a child getting chewed out by a scavver who caught him stealing an extra can of Power Pup. But, he wasn't a child, and he wasn't stealing food. This was on a much bigger scale.</p><p>"..."<br/>Party fell silent, thinking. They hadn't heard about any Dracs with girls. Not from Lola, not from any other Killjoys. They took a step away from Jet Star, pacing a little, before taking a seat at their desk.<br/>"Shit."<br/>They said, letting out a breath.<br/>"And you think it's Dracs?"</p><p>"Maybe. But, I've barely seen any since we split. We made ourselves scarce, I made sure of it."<br/>Jet said, wiping his eyes as he stood up, folding his arms.<br/>"The last time I even saw BL-ind was back when I clapped with that Exterminator this morning."</p><p>"An exterminator?"</p><p>"Not Korse, some lanky dude on a motorcycle. Stopped chasing me when he realized he couldn't outrun the Trans-Am. Or when I flipped him off and shouted about Korse."</p><p>Party let out a slight laugh at that.<br/>"Sounds like some shit Ghoul would pull."<br/>They said after a moment, their voice sounded distant and nostalgic.</p><p>"That's what I thought."<br/>Jet said, looking at the wall in front of him.<br/>"Anyway, I don't think I need to ask what I'm going to ask, but, can you help me get her back?"</p><p>Party thought about that. They'd been out of the saddle for a while, and they couldn't exactly just abandon the station. Then again, they did have Lola, and Lola knew how to spin just as well as him.<br/>"Jet, you know that I very much would. But, with just us two, there's no way we even stand a chance."</p><p>"It wouldn't be just us, I was thinking we could find Ghoul and Kobra. The four of us would stand a much better chance."</p><p>Party's expression changed. It was uncomfortable and nihilistic.<br/>"About that.. I haven't been in contact with either of them in years. I lost touch with Ghoul two years ago, and Kobra's gone."</p><p>"Gone?"</p><p>"We had a disagreement a few years back. I haven't talked to him since then."<br/>Party looked down, sad. Them and Kobra were thick as thieves the last time Jet had seen them. If they had a disagreement, it must have been pretty brutal to warrant them not talking.</p><p>"Fuck.. But, we can still find Ghoul, right? The three of us are still pretty strong."</p><p>"Not as easy as it sounds. Ghoul made himself intentionally hard to find."</p><p>"So did you, taking on a whole different name."</p><p>"But all you had to do was find the radio signal, and I'd be right there. Ghoul's a completely different story.-"<br/>Party was cut off by Lola entering the room, a gun in their hand.</p><p>"What's wrong, what's happening?"<br/>Party asked, standing. Lola nodded to the window, where Party and Jet immediately looked toward.</p><p>"Fuck."</p><p>----------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Outside of the window was the same black car, and the same motorcycle Jet had escaped from that morning. His eyes widened. What the hell? How did the track him all the way out here? Goddamnit.</p><p>"Oh shit, it's the guys from this morning."<br/>Jet said, heading towards the door, pushing aside from Lola.</p><p>"The same ones? They followed you?"</p><p>"I rode here in the Trans-Am, to be honest, I'd be shocked if they didn't have eyes on me."</p><p>Behind their mask, Lola rolled their eyes, earning a sharp elbow from Party, along with a look that said "Don't be an ass."</p><p>"Party, it's now or never, are you coming with me?"<br/>Jet asked, one foot already outside of the office, ready to bolt as the Dracs drew closer. Party let out a sharp sigh, putting a hand on Lola's arm.</p><p>"Lola, man the station. I'm going to leave with Jet for a while. Not sure when I'll be back."<br/>They said, rushing to one of the trunks in the room, digging around and taking out their worn, neglected yellow and blue mask.<br/>"We all leave the station at the same time. Lola goes in one direction, Jet, you and I will go in the other. We're heading to Zone Six and aren't stopping until those Dracs are off our tails."<br/>They said, pulling the mask down over their eyes, then taking out their old blaster. Jet could feel himself getting chills as Party gave out orders, just like old times. But, he kept that under the surface, and just nodded.<br/>"Let's go!"</p><p>Party, Jet, and Lola all ran down the hall, leaving the office behind. Once they were back out in the sun, Lola nodded at the two, then sped off, running into the desert sand. Jet and Party ran to the Trans-Am, Party getting into the passenger's seat, and Jet getting behind the wheel. Jet half-expected Party to start getting nostalgic, but they just had a hardy, stoic look on their face as Jet fired up the Trans-Am, and pulled away from the radio station.</p><p>-----------------------------------------------------</p><p>The wheels of the Trans-Am kicked up dust as they drove, kicking up a trail of dust as they went. Party keep their eyes out of the window, trying to look behind the car.</p><p>"Got a visual on the Dracs?"<br/>Jet asked, his eye focused on the road ahead.</p><p>"Negative, I can't see a thing past the dust."<br/>Party said, pulling themselves up from the seat and climbing over the console to the back of the car.</p><p>"Party- What the hell are you doing?"<br/>Jet asked, looking from the road to his friend</p><p>"Trying to get a look from the top"<br/>Party said, struggling to pull back the piece of scrap metal Jet used to cover the top, eventually managing to break through the rust. They stuck their upper body out of the Trans-Am, looking over the dust to try and get a look at the Dracs.</p><p>"See anything?"<br/>Jet asked, training his eye back on the road.</p><p>"Did you say the Exterminator was on a motorcycle?"<br/>Party asked, squinting at the cloud of dust.</p><p>"Yeah, do you see anything?"<br/>Jet asked, his stomach dropping as he shifted gears, he was going to have to outrun the bastard once more.</p><p>"Yeah, we've got a white cycle at 7 o'clock."<br/>Party said, ducking back into the Trans-Am.<br/>"Your call, are we opening fire, or are we booking it?"<br/>They asked, just as Jet slammed down on the gas, knocking the other killjoy into the backseat.</p><p>"I'm not taking any chances."<br/>Jet said, the car's wheels screeching against the asphalt as he made a particularly sharp turn.<br/>"Did you see the car?"</p><p>"No, I think they went for Lola."<br/>Party said, climbing back up to the passenger's seat.<br/>"They can handle it, though. They might not look like it, but they can kick ass and run fast."</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The Exterminator gave more of a chase this time, competing with the Trans-Am as he tried to catch up to the car. If he weren't apart of BL-ind, he probably would've made a kickass killjoy. If you can tail a car like the Trans-Am for this long without either giving in or falling out, you'd survive pretty well out in the desert.</p><p>"Jet, I don't think they're giving up anytime soon."<br/>Party was getting restless.<br/>"Slow the car down, I'm going to start shooting."<br/>They said, Jet slowing the car down as they came to a straightaway.</p><p>"Just don't fall off the car."<br/>Jet quipped as Party pulled out their blaster, climbing up through the hole in the ceiling, and training their sights on the cycle. The Exterminator looked at Party, his expression again unreadable behind the mask. Going that this speed, it was unlikely that he'd risk letting go of the cycle's handlebars to take a shot at Party. But, that didn't mean Party would have the same restraint. They fired in front of and beside the cycle, warning shots. The Exterminator ducked down in response, slowing the motorcycle down and shouting something illegible. To that, Party ducked back down.</p><p>"Hit it, Jet!"<br/>They demanded, to which Jet floored it, speeding away from the motorcycle as Party let out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>They didn't stop moving until nightfall, when Jet found a safe-looking spot out in the desert to set up camp. It was just like the old days, where they pitched a fire in front of the Trans-Am and ate Power Pup, keeping comments about how it tasted like dog food to themselves.</p><p>"So, you really don't know where the others could be?"<br/>Jet asked, tossing his empty can of food behind him. Party shook their head.</p><p>"No. I just know that Ghoul didn't want to settle somewhere. He said he was going to "hit them where it hurts," whatever that means. He took as many weapons as he could carry and left to the Zones closer to the city."</p><p>"Goddamn, he could just be dead by now."<br/>Jet said bluntly. Party couldn't exactly refute it, as it could very well be true.</p><p>"Could be. But, you know Ghoul. He's dumb, but he's not an idiot."<br/>Party said, taking a bite of food.</p><p>"Maybe he did what I did, just hid from everyone?"<br/>Jet suggested</p><p>"You had good reason to, I don't know if Ghoul could stay out of the spotlight for too long."<br/>Party commented, putting their can into the sand.<br/>"I've heard a few rumors, though. Some guy in a green mask about Ghoul's height riding with a couple dogs."</p><p>"That's just a rumor, it couldn't actually be him-"</p><p>"Apparently, this fella attacks anything that so much as resembles BL-ind. As ferocious as the dogs he travels with."<br/>Party interrupted, raising their eyebrows at Jet.</p><p>"... No, yeah, that sounds a lot like him. Do you think he goes by a different name now? Like what you did?"<br/>Jet asked</p><p>"Fuck, probably. Not long after we split, Ghoul hung around a few other groups under a few different names. I wouldn't be shocked if he dropped Fun Ghoul all together."<br/>Party said with a shrug.</p><p>"If he's that outspoken, he shouldn't be too hard to find. We'd just have to go closer to the city. No big deal."<br/>Jet said sarcastically. Getting in close to the city? With the Trans-Am? Fat chance.<br/>"And nothing on Kobra?"</p><p>Party looked down at the fire, sadness strewn across their face.<br/>"Not a word. Last time we talked, he said something about the Zones needing the Fab Four, needing the Girl, then he just.. left. Never explained what he was doing, where he was going, nothing."</p><p>Jet fell silent. All of the Fab Four were pretty close, but Party and Ghoul were siblings. They weren't just close because they were on the same team, they were close down to the genetics. He put a hand on their back.<br/>"We'll find him. Maybe Ghoul'll know where he ran off to."<br/>Jet said, looking off at the desert.</p><p>"Yeah, maybe."<br/>Party replied with a nod.<br/>"We should get some sleep, if we want to roll out by dawn."<br/>Jet nodded, standing and killing their fire. Party laid down on the desert sand, looking up at the sky.</p><p>"Night, Jet Star."</p><p>Jet settled on the spot of sand opposite Party.</p><p>"Goodnight, Party Poison."</p>
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